Scrap Sculpting
by DonaldDouglasandToby6
Summary: Neville meets Reg at Crocks Scrap Yard, but his introduction is less than pleasant. The tender engine's old memories come back to him, which makes him even more nervous. Can Neville befriend Reg, or will he be scared of him?


Crocks Scrap Yard is a very busy place indeed.

Reg, the crane there, loads scrap from engines' trucks and then the scrap is done with.

Many engines visit the Scrapyard; Whiff and Scruff bring scrap regularly, as does Edward.

But the Scrapyard was getting busier than usual.

Neville was resting in Knapford Yards, watching Stanley shunt his coaches to take to Great Waterton.

Stanley couldn't help noticing Neville's worrisome expression.

"What's the matter, Neville?" Stanley asked kindly.

Neville looked over.

"Oh, it's nothing," he sighed.

"You're not questioning your identity, are you?" Stanley asked worriedly.

"No, I've gone past that. It's just... I'm supposed to take scrap to Crocks Scrap Yard in a half hour."

Stanley smiled.

"Oh, that place is great, despite the purpose behind it." he reassured him, "Whiff and Scruff have told me about Reg, too, and I think you'll like him."

Neville gave a small smile.

"Well, if you say so... I'm just nervous around scrap. It's, sort of a reflex."

"Ah, I understand." Stanley chuckled, "Well, I best be off. Those passengers are waiting!" and Stanley puffed away, whistling as he left.

Neville sighed as his driver came back with a bag full of food.

"Come on Neville; let's make this simple."

Neville frowned.

"Alright, driver..."

He peered over to a siding full of scrap.

Neville looked at it questioningly.

"Do you need something, Neville?" asked a voice.

Neville jumped and next to him was Charlie, shunting some trucks.

"Oops, sorry; that wasn't meant to be a trick. Was a bit funny though."

"Are those my trucks?" Neville asked earnestly.

"The ones filled with scrap? Indeed. You better be off now, just in case any delays occur."

So Neville was coupled up, and he puffed away, still worried of what Reg would be like.

At Crocks Scrap Yard, Whiff was arriving with a truck of scrap, along with a brakevan.

He whistled cheerfully as he puffed in.

"Hello, Reg!" Whiff said.

Reg turned around and grinned.

"Oh my, more scrap! Today's a busy day indeed!"

"I know," panted Whiff, "It's hard managing scrap _and_ the dump. I just hope another engine comes; I have a lot to do today."

Reg chuckled as he grabbed some scrap from Whiff's truck.

"Well, at least you have wheels. All I can do is slide about and stay here."

Whiff chuckled too as the last of the scrap was removed.

"I see, Reg. I'll be back later; I have to work at the dump. Oh, and nice sculpture by the way." and Whiff puffed away.

Reg hummed to himself as he peered over at his sculpture of nothing; he called it "abstract".

Reg was just about to grab a piece of scrap to add to his sculpture when he heard puffing, then a whistle.

"Oh boy, more scrap! I can't wait to scrunch it up! Maybe I'll even get to add this to my sculpture!"

Reg peered over and saw a black tender engine arriving with a train of scrap.

The crane grinned.

"Hello there!"

Neville gulped as he came to a halt.

"Um... hello." he stuttered.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Reg, the scrapyard crane."

Neville wasn't sure what to make of the place as he looked around frantically.

"Like the place? I do too." Reg commented as he grabbed scrap from Neville's front truck.

The tender engine suddenly saw something that made his boiler run cold.

"Reg... what is that?!"

Reg looked around.

"What is it you're looking for?"

"Th-th-that... pile of scrap! W-why does it look like some bizarre...art?" Neville stuttered in horror.

Reg chuckled.

"Oh, that? I do that in my spare time. Quite fun actually."

Neville's eyes widened.

"Please, uncouple me." Neville whispered to a nearby workman.

The workman did so, and Neville raced off as fast as his wheels could carry him.

"Neville? Neville! Wait, where are you going?" Reg asked worriedly, but the engine was already gone.

Neville panted along Edward's Branch Line in terror.

"Reg plays with scrap! I never want to go back to that place again!" Neville cried.

Soon, he reached Suddery.

He came to a halt, certain that he was far away from Reg.

Neville then heard a whistle.

"Edward!" thought Neville gratefully as the blue engine in question puffed up with a train of passengers.

"Neville, what are you doing? You're supposed to be at the Scrapyards." Edward said.

Neville's boiler quivered.

"D-do I have to go back there, Edward? The crane there, R-reg, plays with scrap...you know what scrap is!" Neville cried.

Edward frowned.

"Oh... Uh... Yeah, he tends to build sculptures, but it's nothing new. He doesn't have any harm in doing it either."

"You don't understand, Edward! Reg is not a crane I want to be around; he's unsettling! I don't want to go back to the scrapyard!" Neville cried frantically.

"Don't be scared, Neville." he said kindly, "Reg is a nice crane once you get to know him."

Neville gulped.

"...well...I suppose I... _have_ to go back, don't I?"

"That's your job." replied Edward.

Neville sighed.

"Alright..I'll go back, but only for a minute!"

Neville backed down the line swiftly to get his job done quickly.

Edward frowned and worried of what would happen at the scrapyard.

Reg was just unloading the last of the scrap in Neville's trucks.

"Hmm, wonder if that engine will come back." Reg sighed, "I wonder what got into him."

Suddenly quick chuffing could be heard.

"Oh, I guess he came back. I guessed correctly." Reg chuckled to himself as he picked up a tyre from one of the trucks.

"You'll do good as a decoration." Reg said as he turned and dropped the tyre on top of his sculpture.

Neville arrived as he was quickly coupled up to his train.

"Say, why did you run off earlier anyway?" Reg asked worriedly.

But Neville paid no attention to the crane; his eyes widened as he focused on the sculpture.

"Earth to...whatever your name is? Hello? Reg asked.

He chuckled as he picked up a rusted car and dropped it to get Neville's attention.

The scrap broke into many pieces, some flying into Neville; they didn't cause much more than damage, but Neville was still frightened.

"Oww!" Neville cried, then he started puffing backwards.

"Help me, save me from this place!"

Neville practically shrieked as he scurried down Edward's Branch Line.

Reg cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, that was awkward. Maybe that car thing wasn't the best idea I've ever had..."

Neville puffed backwards as fast as his wheels would carry him, back to Wellsworth.

He scurried over The Fenland Track, panting as his wheels whirred.

Passing the scared engine were Donald and Douglas, who were double-heading a train of tar tankers to Brendam.

"What do ye think yer doing, laddie?" burst out Donald.

"Yer gonna cause an accident, might I add!" agreed Douglas, but Neville had already had gone.

"Wonder what's gotten into him..." muttered Donald.

"Maybe it's just the sun." chuckled Douglas.

Neville panted wearily into Wellsworth.

"Oh, thank goodness I'm away from that...that...horrible place!" Neville spluttered, "Now, let's get these trucks into the sidings."

Neville puffed into the yard and shunted the trucks for the next scrap train, which lucky for Neville, he wasn't taking.

Just then, Hank puffed in with a train of passengers.

"Howdy there, Neville. What's gotten into your funnel? You look a bit stressed out." said Hank.

Neville sighed.

"Hank... Do you know Reg?"

"I reckon I've heard of him, maybe. Why?"

"Because-"

Before Neville could say any more, his driver spoke up.

"Come on Neville. We've got to go take a train of paint."

Neville sighed gratefully; he didn't have to see Reg for the rest of the day.

Hank frowned as Neville puffed away.

"Something ain't right..." he muttered.

The rest of Neville's day proved uneventful.

But he still couldn't get the crane out of his mind.

He was still fearing Reg as he puffed into Knapford Sheds.

The only other engine in the shed was Harvey.

Harvey noticed Neville's worrisome expression.

"Neville... Are you alright?" Harvey asked quietly.

Neville sighed.

"Harvey, one of your jobs is loading scrap into trucks, right?" he asked.

Harvey chuckled.

"Oh, yes. In all honesty, it's a decent job. I am strong I suppose, but it's still a nice change of pace compared to something like lifting pipes."

Neville grimaced.

"But... don't you understand what scrap is, Harvey? It's... it's..."

"Neville, I don't really understand. Is... something bothering you about scrap? Is that why you brought it up?"

Neville gulped as more memories started floating back.

He looked down at his buffers, then at Harvey.

"...yes." Neville said meekly.

"Oh, no need to be shy about it. You can tell me." Harvey said kindly.

Neville let out a sigh again, then looked up at the night sky.

"Well... It all started when I was in the shed on my railway. I hadn't been used for a while, and my driver was worried that I'd be scrapped. Days went by, and no reply from anyone came. His worries were confirmed when the manager came to see us, saying I'd have to be scrapped. I was horrified, as was my crew, but there was nothing anybody could do. I was loaded onto a flatbed and taken away by a large Diesel to... a scrapyard. I was unloaded and the Diesel went away. I was now all alone, waiting for my fate. But... then came a stout gentleman I had never seen before. 'Hello', he said to me, 'What are you doing here?' 'I'm going to be scrapped, sir...' I said nervously. The stout gentleman looked surprised. 'Oh my goodness, we can't have that.' He looked behind to find a man lighting up a torch. 'Stop! Stop at once, young man! I have a use for this engine on my own railway.' I couldn't believe what I was hearing; I was saved! The gentleman looked over me and nodded. 'You're certainly in good condition. Come on, I'll make the arrangements, take you to Sodor.' I've heard of Sodor before, but never actually saw it, so obviously I was excited."

"So that's how you came here?" asked Harvey.

"Yes... But since that fateful day I've always been nervous around scrap... I suppose I should explain why this has gotten to me all of a sudden." Neville said.

"Yes." Harvey agreed.

"Well, I was told to take scrap to Crocks Scrap Yard yesterday, and met Reg... He... makes sculptures out of scrap, Harvey."

Harvey winced; now he understood what was going on.

"Neville, while Reg may seem scary, he's actually really nice; plus, he has a different attitude towards scrap than the engines do. Reg isn't intending to hurt anyone, unlike some certain Smelter's Diesels I shall not mention..."

Neville sighed.

"Well, I have to collect scrap again tomorrow... Are you sure he isn't scary?"

"I'm sure, Neville. Just give him a chance. Tell him how you feel, and he'll understand. Trust me, I know him." Harvey smiled.

"I hope you're right." Neville sighed, and he closed his eyes, but doubt was still in the engine's mind.

The next morning, Harvey had already left to help lift loads onto flatbeds at Brendam Docks.

So now Neville was on his own, as the firelighter lit his fire and his crew arrived.

"Time to go back to Crocks Scrap Yard ol' boy. You think you can handle it?" asked his driver.

Neville got a determined look.

"Yes, driver."

His driver was slightly surprised, but said nothing as Neville puffed away to collect his trucks from the yard.

In the yard, Charlie had already arranged them this time, and Neville puffed away, not paying any attention to the other engines.

As he puffed along the line, Neville grew more and more nervous.

"Oooh, scrap... Not scrap... No, I've got to do this..." Neville said to himself as he puffed onto the Wellsworth Branch Line, "I must get closure on my fear. Face the fear... Face... the... fear."

Neville kept chanting this for the rest of his journey.

At Crocks Scrap Yard, Reg was testing his grabber.

"Hmm, got to make sure I don't give the slip this time... I don't want to throw a car across the rail again..."

Suddenly he heard the same whistle he heard yesterday.

"Oh my, it's that same engine from yesterday... Oh dear, I hope he isn't scared this time around..." Reg said worriedly.

He turned and saw Neville puffed toward the scrapyards with more scrap.

Neville hesitated for a moment when he saw that Reg was looking at him.

"Come on, Neville." urged his driver.

Neville sighed and puffed forward into the scrapyard.

Reg winced as Neville puffed up to him.

"H-hello Reg." Neville said timidly.

"Oh, hello again... Uh, I never did catch your name. What was it again?"

"It was Neville. I'd... just like to apologize for yesterday."

Reg was confused.

"Why do you need to apologize? I was the one who scared you."

"Only because... I didn't know who you actually are. I'm sorry I made you feel bad about yourself." Neville said quietly, "I just got a little freaked out by your sculptures."

Reg gave a small smile.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Neville. I'm sort of used to that reaction, to be honest. But it doesn't really matter; I love doing what I do no matter what."

Neville smiled, feeling grateful for following Harvey's advice.

"I understand, Reg. It's just... well... I almost faced the cutters' torch and I felt a bit scared. But you can't live in the past, can you?" Neville said.

"Indeed." Reg agreed, grinning at the sight of Neville not being scared.

Soon, Reg had finished unloading the scrap.

"Nice to see you, Neville!" Reg called.

Neville whistled and shunted his trucks back to Wellsworth.

Since that day, Neville and Reg have gotten along fine indeed.


End file.
